The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood Book 3) by Nikki Sloane (top e book reader .TXT) 📗

His kiss. Oh, my God, his fucking kiss.

It was the kind they wrote love songs about. The one at the end of a movie when the lovers finally got together. His lips pressed to mine like he would have died if we’d been separated a moment longer, and I sank into him. His kiss was hungry and consuming and powerful.

I was sure he’d planned to kiss me after giving his gift. It’d probably been designed to happen after I’d thanked him, which I’d gotten sidetracked from and hadn’t actually done yet. But this kiss? No way he’d planned it.

It felt unleashed. Wild. Passion poured from him like wine spilling from a bottle that’d been knocked over.

He tilted his head, adjusting the angle to deepen the kiss, and his tongue swept in my mouth. I’d never moaned from a kiss before. It was usually just lips meeting lips, but this was distinctly different. It was a statement.

A declaration.

I pictured us in my mind. His arms were cased around my back, and I had fistfuls of his sweater in my hands during the onslaught of his fiery kiss. I was trembling and he was struggling to catch his breath, and if it didn’t end soon, I worried we might collapse under the gravity of it.

But, thankfully, he slowed and ended the kiss.

My voice was so hushed, it was barely audible. “What was that?”

His eyes were hazy as he stared at my mouth. “That was . . . unexpected.” He blinked his fog away and his gaze sharpened. “It was something I’ve been wanting to do all week.”

His expression shuttered like he’d said too much, and he searched wildly for something to deflect until his gaze landed on the pair of shoes I’d been wearing when I arrived. He scooped them up, put them in the box, and handed it to me.

“We should get going,” he said. “I don’t want to be late and make Travis worry.”

“Right.” I hugged the box to my chest, hoping it would cover my rapidly beating heart. I still hadn’t recovered from his kiss and wasn’t sure if I ever would. “Thank you for the shoes,” I said. “I love them.”

His smile reached into his eyes, lighting up his face. “You’re welcome.”

The restaurant had a trendy pub feel, full of distressed, warm wood and exposed brick. Travis had been early and was waiting by the host stand when we arrived, and the three of us were seated at a square table in the center of the dining room.

It felt so fucking good to be here, right in the middle between the two men I cared about, and who demanded all my attention, even when they weren’t around. Was it the same for them as it was for me?

Did they like this unusual ‘date’ as much as I did?

I tried to tamp down my excitement. If this evening went well, perhaps I could convince them we should do it again.

The waitress appeared, wearing a shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow and a necktie that was tucked into her white waist apron. “Should I get your drink orders started?” She glanced at the place setting and empty chair across from me. “Or are we waiting for a fourth guest?”

“It’s just the three of us,” Clay said.

For a moment, I let my fantasies run away with me. Maybe this was how it could be.

Just the three of us.

After she’d taken our orders and menus, the waitress moved on, leaving us to stare at each other anxiously. No one was sure who should speak first, but Clay set his arms on the table, leaned forward, and took in a long, preparing breath.

“My project’s moving into phase three at the end of next week.”

I tensed, not understanding what that meant, but he’d delivered his statement with such seriousness, it felt like he’d dropped an anvil on us.

Travis had my same confusion, but also suspicion, because his eyes narrowed. “Which means what?”

“My part’s over. I’ll be back in Nashville for good next weekend.”

My happiness at having Clay home full time was short-lived, and immediately trumped by anxiety. With him home, there’d be no need for a stand-in after next week. Pieces began to fall into place, moving too fast for my heart to keep up.

The clock hanging over us was suddenly out of time.

TWENTY-TWO

I’m not ready. That was the thought blaring through my mind as I sat at the table, stunned.

“It’s why I wanted to get together tonight.” Clay’s tone was measured, but gentle. “We need to talk about our arrangement, and how it should end.”

It cut through me as a knife that was so sharp, I couldn’t do anything but sit there and let it slice me in two.

Travis, however, was still able to speak, and his tone was full of dread. “You want it to end?”

His gaze slid over to me, needing to confirm if I felt the same, but I was just as stunned as he was by this. Hell, twenty seconds ago, I’d had a head full of what-ifs, dreaming about a future for the three of us.

Now that I’d caught a glimpse, it was all I wanted. Fuck. How could I choose between these men when I needed them both?

Clay’s expression was pained. “I was upfront with you about everything. When I asked you to step in, you knew it was temporary.”

“Yeah, you made that clear,” Travis said, “but shit has changed since then.”

“Yes, just like I warned you. I told you this could happen.”

Oh, God. There was an invisible band around my chest, and every word was cinching it tighter. At that moment, the waitress reappeared with a tray of our drinks in hand. She picked up on the tension at the table and chose to silently dole out the cocktails while the two men stared intensely at each other.

“Can I get you anything else?” she said.

My voice was a ghost. “No, thank you.”

She hurried away, which just ratcheted up my anxiety.

“Did you ask